I was at cheerleading practice— my favorite place to be. Exercise created endorphins and I was addicted to it. I had been active my whole life. There was nothing better than muscle pain after training hard, the feeling of adrenaline in my veins and feeling of being alive.
I had been a cheerleader in school and in college. I had auditioned to be a part of the Florida Sharks Cheerleading Squad and by some miracle, they had accepted me. I’d started training with them last week.
“How are you fitting in?” Dina asked me when we took a water break.
“Oh, I think I’m getting the hang of it,” I said. Dina was the coach who had overseen the auditions. She had insisted they take me.
“You look like you’re managing,” she smiled.
I nodded, “The training is a little more intense than I’m used to these days, but I love a challenge.”
“That’s the spirit,” Dina said, and joined the other coach.
I sipped my water and watched some of the other cheerleaders chatting in groups. They weren’t even breaking a sweat while I sat on the bench, dripping and breathing hard. I would get there, I promised myself.
I knew I would.
The squad was amazing. I wasn’t exactly a part of it yet, I felt like a bit of an outsider, but that would change. In time, we would be a team the way I had been at school and at college.
In college, I had studied Sports Science. I had wanted a career in sports even after I was too old to be a cheerleader, although that wouldn’t be for quite a few years. I’d worked hard and played hard and loved hard. I had lived the dream in college and I was doing the same, now.
“Alright, ladies, time’s up,” Dina called, and we walked onto the field again. My legs felt like jelly and I was still breathing hard; the short water break hadn’t exactly been enough to recover.
“Let’s look at lifts,” Dina said. I was grateful. I was one of the cheerleaders being lifted, not doing the lifting. Thank God. My arms felt like spaghetti and I might have dropped someone.
When training was over, I fished my phone out of my bag and checked it. Sara had been looking for me even though she knew what time my practice ended.
“What’s up?” I asked when I returned her call.
“We’re tackling the box room,” she said.
I groaned, “I can’t unpack, today. I’m dying after training.”
“Muscle up, honey,” Sara said. “See it as a post-workout bonus.”
I laughed.
“I’ll throw in a bottle of wine.”
“Oh, you know just how to win me over,” I said, laughing and ending the call.
Sara and I had been friends since high school. She was like a sister to me. Even though we were practically joined at the hip, we were polar opposites in so many ways.
I had long dark hair. She had a blonde pixie cut. My eyes were a deep chocolate brown, hers were a sparkling green. I had a natural tan where Sara was white as a ghost.
We came from very different backgrounds. I had grown up with the knowledge that I had to work my ass off for anything I wanted in life, where Sara was a trust-fund-baby who had everything fall in her lap. That didn’t stop us. Sara was a snob, but I was outspoken, and we were at each other as much as we loved each other.
It worked for us.
We had moved to a beach condo a few weeks ago. Sara had bought it, a cash deal, of course, and I was rooming with her because where else would I go? She’d asked me to move in with her with that very line. We had been roommates since college, so of course, I agreed.
We had only unpacked the most important boxes since the move, and still had a whole room full of unopened boxes that we fondly referred to as the box room. Well, today that was going to change, apparently.
“I’m back,” I said, when I got home. “I need to shower, I’m drenched.”
“You smell like it, too,” Sara said, coming into the room. She wore faded designer jeans and a crop top that showed off her flat stomach. She pinched her nose. I stuck out my tongue at her and we laughed.
When I was done showering I joined Sara in the box room.
“I think we need to do the ornaments, first,” Sara said, standing with her hands on her hips.
“I vote for unpacking the wine glasses first,” I said. Sara agreed and opened the box with the wine glasses and whiskey tumblers, things we hadn’t needed until now. We poured two glasses of wine, carried two boxes to the living room and started working.
“You’re in a sad career when it comes to male talent,” Sara said, unpacking photo frames. “Being surrounded by women all day isn’t good for your psyche. Trust me, I know.”
Sara worked at a law firm that represented battered women, so they were all women in the office.
“It’s not like I’m dying to meet a man,” I said. “I have my career to focus on.”
“Only you would make a career of jumping around and shaking your pompoms as hard as you shake your ass,” Sara said.
I laughed, “Only you would make a career out of arguing.”
“Touché,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. “Seriously Maya, you need a man,” she added.
I shook my head. “For what? One broken heart is enough, thank you very much.”
“Come on, it’s part of life. If I had stopped after my heart got broken I wouldn’t have met Charlie.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think you’ll get your heart broken if you end it with Charlie. You never get your heart broken.”
“That’s because getting attached is overrated,” Sara said.
I shook my head. There was no arguing with Sara. Her logic was backward but it worked for her. It didn’t work for me. I got attached when I was in a relationship, I took love seriously and when it was ripped way, it hurt.
I had dated a guy in college for almost two years and breaking it off with him had stung like a bitch. I wasn’t looking for something like that again unless the guy was worth my while. And so far, none the guys I’d met had been worth any of my time.
My phone rang. I got up and found it in my bag, looking at the caller ID.
“God, not again,” I wailed.
“Who is it?” Sara asked.
“Guess.”
Sara looked irritated. “There’s only one person that gets that reaction from you. God, I’m getting sick of him.”
“You and me both,” I said. I watched the phone ring until my voicemail picked up the call. There was no way I was answering it.
Two years ago, when I had thought I would brave the dating scene again, I had gone on a date with a guy named Tyler. He had been sweet but a little overbearing, so I’d told him I wasn’t interested in a second date.
I’d figured that mainly, I wasn’t over my ex, and hadn’t been ready to plunge back into the dating scene— not that I ever really would be, it turned out, because to this day I still really hadn’t found myself able to go on dates. But also, no matter the reason, I just knew Tyler wasn’t my type. Unfortunately, he had decided I was exactly his type and he wouldn’t leave me alone. Ever.
He kept track of my life, where I was, and who I was with. He was one step short of a restraining order, which was the only reason I hadn’t gotten one against him. If I had been able to, I would have done it in a wink.
“Are you going to listen to it?” Sara asked, when my phone beeped with a new voice message.
I sighed, “I don’t want to hear what he has to say, but if I don’t listen to it I’m not going to know what he’s doing this time. I have to know what he’s up to.”
Sara shrugged. She couldn’t argue with me. The old adage rang true: know your enemies.
I dialed the number for the voice mailbox and listened.
“Why did you move, Maya?” he asked.
That was it. It was a short message, but it gave me the chills. I saved the voice message in case I had to use it as evidence against him, then sat down next to Sara again. I had abandoned the box I was unpacking.
“What did he say?” Sara asked.
I sighed. “He asked why we moved.”
“How the hell does he know this? Did you post it on Facebook?”
I shook my head. I had stopped broadcasting my life on Facebook, keeping my contact details and location private. I didn’t ‘check-in’ when I went to restaurants with friends, I didn’t post photos until the next day. I tried everything to throw Tyler off my scent.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m starting to think the guy put a tracker on me or something.”
Sara downed the last of her wine. “This is bullshit. If I see him, he’ll be sorry he’s following you around.”
But that was the problem. We never saw him. He was like a ghost, knowing what went on in my life but never showing his face. If he had, I would have faced him ages ago.
“What are you doing to do about it?” Sara asked.
“I don’t know. There’s not much I can do. I went to the police, but you know what they said.”
“That you can’t get a restraining order because he’s not physically harassing you, I know. He’s never doing anything to hurt you. But it’s horrible, anyway.”
“I don’t know how to get rid of him,” I said.
“Well, first you have to change your number. Again.”
I groaned. “God, that is such a hassle, and it’s not that simple. I have to change it everywhere, with the banks, and all my various accounts, not to mention my friends and my job.”
“I know,” Sara said. “But it’s better than a happily ever after with Tyler.”
I had to agree with her. I wanted nothing to do with him. He had seemed nice when we had gone out on our one little date. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor by a long shot but I hadn’t disliked him.
I sure disliked him now, though.
“I don’t think anything would get him off your case unless you were permanently unavailable,” Sara said, sitting back against the couch.
“Like what, marriage?”
Sara shrugged.
“Who am I going to get married to? I’m not even dating.”
“That’s a problem. You see? It’s just another reason for you to get a man.”
I laughed. “I’m pretty happy single for now. You’re a serial dater, so I know you don’t get it, but I have no intention of finding some guy for the sake of getting rid of my stalker. No matter how enticing that sounds. Before you know it, I have another stalker on my hands.”
We sat in silence for a while.
“You have to look at the positive side,” Sara said, when she finished the second glass of wine.
“There’s a bright side to this?”
“Always. Silver lining, you know? It means you’re a total bomb. Sexy and sassy and all that. Because someone wants you that badly.”
I laughed. “Thanks, Sara. I’m afraid it doesn’t as much mean I’m hot as it means that Tyler is a little psychotic.”
Sara rolled her eyes, “I was complimenting you.”
I laughed again. “And I appreciate it. But I’m so sick of this shit. I just want to be able to live my life without having to be so damn careful. Things are going really well for me right now, I don’t want anything to spoil it.”
“You can’t win them all,” Sara said, tipping her empty glass at me.
“Such sound advice,” I said dryly.
“Hey, what are friends for?” Sara asked, a big grin on her face.
Chapter 3
When I opened my eyes on Sunday morning, my head pounded like grenades were going off in my skull. I turned my face into the mattress and groaned, but the pounding didn’t go away. I realized after a while that it wasn’t only a roaring headache, someone was actually pounding on my front door.
Dammit. I was not in the mood to play nice. I just wanted to turn over and sleep. Maybe for a whole year. If I stayed in bed, whoever it was would catch a hint.
I had no idea who it could be. I didn’t get many visitors— surprise or expected. Ever since my breakup years ago, I kept to myself. I couldn’t fucking find it within me to be interested in seriously pursuing a woman. I just wanted to be left alone by the world.
I closed my eyes, but the constant thumping didn’t stop and it only made my headache worse. I had to get up and stop whoever was out there from knocking so incessantly if I wanted to survive.
“Coming,” I called out and rolled off the bed. I groaned, clawing my head. It ached and throbbed and the light that came through curtains I had been too drunk to draw last night stung my eyes. I had stayed in last night and drank a full bottle of whiskey all by myself. I regretted it now that I had a cottonmouth and I felt like a drill bit was forcing its way into my brain.
I pulled a shirt over my head and shorts over my boxers, so I didn’t look like I’d rolled straight out of bed. In the bathroom, I splashed water on my face so that I didn’t look as horrific as I felt. I looked at the toilet, wondering if it was safe to walk to the front door without hugging the toilet and emptying the contents of my stomach, first.
When I was sure I wouldn’t throw up, I walked to the front door. The knocking had died down, so either whoever had been knocking stopped when I’d said I was coming, or they had left. I silently prayed for the latter.
When I pressed my eye to the peephole, Jacob was on the other side of my door. He shifted his weight and Kina came into view.
Fucking perfect.
They were the last people on earth I wanted to see. Their happiness pissed me off. Not only because Jacob was a pro player when I had dreamed of being one and hadn’t made it, but because they had found true love in each other and I was still alone. Sure, I had had love once, but I’d lost it. And I was beginning to think I’d never find anything like it again.
There was no reminder harsher than my twin sister having the perfect life while I was two steps up from the gutter. Metaphorically speaking.
And I was hungover. What a kicker. I wondered if I could get away with ignoring them. If I kept quiet for long enough, they might assume I wasn’t home and walk away. But they’d heard me say I was coming. That and my car was parked the street. If I ignored them now, I would just be being a dick on purpose, and I’d have even more to feel guilty about. I pulled open the door and leaned against the door post, running my hand through my hair.
“Kyle. Hi,” Kina said, with a smile. Her eyes slid over my body, taking in my clothes, my scruffy hair. Her smile faded. “Are you hungover?”
I shook my head and regretted it. “I just woke up,” I said.
Kina glanced at Jacob and I knew she didn’t believe me. I wasn’t lying, completely. I had woken up only moments ago.
“Can we come in?” Jacob asked.
“I’d rather you didn’t. It’s not a good time for me. My place is a mess, I wasn’t expecting guests.” It was another lie. The cleaning service had come in yesterday and my place was spotless.
“We don’t mind, we’re family,” Kina said, brightly. “And we brought sustenance.”
She held up a box of Krispy Kremes. I noticed Jacob held a carton with three Styrofoam coffee cups from Starbucks. They had come bearing gifts. Gifts that might help my hangover.
I sighed and opened the door wider, standing to the side. Kina walked in first with Jacob following behind her. As I closed the door, Kina looked around and I knew she noticed how clean the apartment was. I expected her to say something, but she didn’t.
I sat down in the armchair and took a doughnut from the box. A jelly doughnut—my favorite. Kina was married to someone I hated now, but she was still my other half, literally. She knew me. It was endearing and it pissed me off, all at the same time.
“So, how have you been?” Kina asked. “How is work?”
I shrugged. “It’s going as well as can be expected.” It would have been better if I was playing professional football, for instance, instead of being an accountant.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” I said, trying to be polite about it instead of being a downright dick. “What are you doing here?”
Kina pulled up her shoulders. I could see it was hard to keep her composure, to plaster a smile on her face when she was upset with how I was acting, and that I’d lied about being hungover and my place being a mess.
“We came to visit,” Kina said, “That’s what people do.”
I had to resist letting a groan escape from my lips. That may have been what other people did, but I preferred to sleep in and be left alone.
“Yeah, we hardly get to see you, man,” Jacob said. “You’re MIA, these days. We had to check that you were still alive.”
Jacob had seen me at The Corner on Friday. He knew I was alive. I bet he must have told Kina about it and how I had acted. It was probably why she had called, and why they were here, now. I wished we hadn’t run into each other. It would have prevented all this awkwardness.
I couldn’t argue with them about wanting to see me. We were family, after all. Jacob was my brother-in-law. Anyone else would have been stoked that their best friend had become part of their family. I hated it. It meant I had to face him all the time, seeing him living the life I hadn’t gotten to live. My existence was stark in comparison to his and it was hard not to resent the guy.
We sat in awkward silence for a while. I sipped my coffee and hoped to God they wouldn’t stay long. My head was killing me and even though the doughnut and coffee had made me feel marginally better, my stomach was trying to decide whether to send it all back up again.
“You know, Kyla,” Kina started. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to see us anymore. I thought we were okay.”
Her blue eyes were glazed over a little like she was fighting back tears.
“I’m just busy,” I said.
“That’s bullshit,” Kina said, and she was getting upset now. “You weren’t too busy a couple of months after we sorted out everything else. And you were still studying then.”
I knew what she was talking about. When Kina and Jacob had officially gotten together, working through publicity issues, I had told Jacob I was sorry for blaming him for taking the career option I thought I deserved.
I’d apologized to Kina for making life so difficult for her when I had drunk myself into a stupor every day and had been arrested for public offenses on a regular basis. I had fucking tried, for their sake, to be a decent fucking human being.
But I had failed. I couldn’t shake the envy, the jealousy, and it had hurt. I was tired of hurting so much. So I just stayed away instead.
“It hurts, you know,” Kina said, and I wondered how she knew what I was thinking. But then I realized she was talking about herself. “It hurts to know that my brother wants nothing to do with me when everything was cleared up and we were okay. After everything we’ve been through together,” she stopped talking halfway through her sentence, swallowing hard.
Jacob put his arm around Kina.
“What Kina is trying to say,” Jacob carried on, on her behalf, “is that we miss you. We want to see you more often.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to agree to that. I knew I was being rude, but I wasn’t going to apologize for it, either. I was allowed to feel the way I felt. Did Kina want to bring up pain? Seeing them hurt me more than it hurt them when I withdrew. I was sure of it.
“Why?” Kina asked. “Why are you back to this when we talked about everything?”
I shook my head. I thought for a moment to tell them, but they wouldn’t understand. We’d been through this already.
“I’m just under a lot of work pressure right now. Turns out there’s a lot of work involved in building my life back up after I tanked it. I’m taking it one day at a time and that doesn’t always include socializing.”
“It includes drinking, obviously,” Kina said. She didn’t look like she was going to cry anymore. She looked pissed off, now.
“You know what?” I asked. “It’s not illegal to drink. I’m not ruining my life, I’m not getting locked up. I cleaned up my act. I’m earning my own cash and I have a place to stay. You can’t tell me I’m wrong.”
Kina nodded. “You’re right. I can’t.” She stood up. “I think it’s better if we go.”
Jacob stood up, too. He shot me a glare. I faced him head-on. The press had painted him as a wild card when he’d attacked another player so many years ago, but I wasn’t scared of him. If he wanted to take me on we could make it happen. If he wanted to dance, we could dance.
Nothing came of his silent threat, my challenge. Jacob followed Kina to the door and they let themselves out. When the door clicked closed—she hadn’t even slammed it—I looked at the box of doughnuts they had left behind. Enough for three people but I was the only one that had taken one. It had been a peace offering of sorts. I had fucked it up royally, of course, but that was classic Kyle Turner.
My stomach turned and I jumped up, running to the bathroom. The doughnut and the coffee came back up along with the whiskey I’d had the night before.
I threw up until there was nothing in my stomach, dry heaving a few times before I groaned and sat back on my heels. I curled up on the bathroom floor, pressing my cheek against the cold porcelain. The tiles were like heaven beneath my legs and arms as well.
Fuck. Maybe I hadn’t cleaned up my act as much as I’d thought.
I hadn’t wanted to see Kina and Jacob, but it had been nice to have someone over for a change. I had few friends and the friends I did have were at the office. I never invited them over because I saw them five days a week. But having someone in my space had been a good feeling.
It sucked being lonely. I had isolated and cocooned myself so that I was alone an island. And that wasn’t right.
Rolling onto my back, I closed my eyes. I felt like shit about how I had treated my sister. I could be upset with Jacob all I wanted, but it wasn’t fair to take it out on Kina. She hadn’t done anything wrong, aside from marrying Jacob. She deserved to be happy, and I couldn’t resent her for that.
Maybe I should do something to make it up to her. I wasn’t going to fucking grovel or anything, but I could make a small effort. Jacob’s practice was tomorrow and he had invited me to go watch.
Right now, I couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting in the sun, watching him play. But tomorrow, I wouldn’t be hungover. I could leave work a little early and swing by the training center, showing my face. Maybe it would make Jacob and Kina happy. Maybe it would make me feel better.
I covered my face with my hands. I couldn’t believe I was even considering it, but if I could put on a face for them a while back when they got married, I could do it again, right?
It was for Kina, after all, I told myself. She had done so much for me when she could have left me in jail overnight, or left me rotting under a park bench. She could have left me on the street when I’d been evicted, but my sister had gone out of her way, even though I had brought it all on myself.
I guessed I could sit through one stupid practice to try to keep the peace.
Chapter 4
I couldn’t believe how much I loved going to cheerleading practice. I was getting better at it, too. My fitness had bumped up a level and I could keep up better with the other cheerleaders. I felt more part of the team than I had at first, too.
Training, being curvy and fit, and putting my body through a rigorous exercise routine to get stronger, all took my mind away from my troubles. I’d had to change my number again and the process was never fun. I had to let so many people know, update so many applications and systems, all while knowing that inevitably, Tyler would find me again. It was a pain in my ass, but training as hard as we did at practice allowed me to forget for a while.
We were training at the Florida Sharks’ training center today which was exciting. We often trained at a sport’s field or a local school or college, wherever we could get everyone together for the extra sessions, but a few times a week we were on the official training grounds.
We got glimpses of the football players from time to time, watching them train when our sessions were done. It was always spectacular. Their fitness was on a different level and there was something about the speed, strength and finesse executed as they practiced.
My whole life had been about sports. I had been the only one watching football while all my friends watched fashion shows and makeup clips. I had understood the basic principles of fitness and the importance of the right carbs, while my friends had starved themselves to death.
The only person that understood me was Sara, and it was why we were still friends. She had naturally fast metabolism so she never picked up weight, and her money had given her confidence that made her naturally attractive so she had no complexes. Sara was too self-centered to care about me stealing her thunder.
When we took a water break, I noticed someone standing at the side of the field. My blood ran cold for a moment. What if Tyler had found me, what if he was watching me? But he’d had dark hair and the guy standing next to the field had light hair. And Tyler had never been so sure of himself.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. There were spectators for the different team practices all the time. Tyler calling me all the time, and so soon after the move, had left me anxious.
We trained on, doing stretches and strength training, sprinting to hone our explosive muscles, and long distance runs for endurance.
We were almost done when the football players ran onto the field. The girls all stopped and stared.
Dina laughed, “Alright, I see we’re not going to be able to do any more today. Let’s stretch it out before hitting the showers.”
We sat down in a circle on the grass, doing our stretches, keeping an eye on the muscle wrestling it out on the field. I noticed that the spectator had moved forward and now that he was closer, he looked familiar.
“Do you know who that is?” I asked Samantha, who stretched next to me, gesturing with my head. She had been on the Sharks Cheerleading Squad for almost two years now. She shook her head. No one famous, then.
He turned around, even closer now and I realized who it was.
Kyle, my ex. My first and only true love. He hadn’t changed. If anything, he had become even hotter. He had grown into himself. His face angular, his body muscular, and the reediness of a growing teenager was long gone.
“Dina,” I said. “I see someone I know. Can I go say hi?”
Dina nodded. “If you’re aching tomorrow because you didn’t stretch it’s on you,” she said.
I grabbed my bag and walked toward Kyle, hesitant. How would he receive me? He was the one who had essentially called things off between us. He’d told me things had gotten hard for him, that he’d had to reinvent himself and he hadn’t been able to do that with me by his side. Basically, he chose his sport over me.
It had hurt and I had spent nights crying about this boy who had all but told me he didn’t need me. I had been serious about him, sure that we would reach our forever. Yeah, I had been young and in love, but I was convinced I knew what love was. I still didn’t understand it, but I had been bitter then. I had dealt with it and eventually moved on with my life. I wasn’t angry anymore.
Seeing him now brought back memories— and emotions. It hit me like a wave, making it hard for me to think straight. Butterflies erupted in my stomach, the way they had when I’d seen him for the first time. My stomach twisted and turned when I remembered how it used to be with him. And how it had ended.
The idea of seeing him again seemed strange. I wasn’t sure if he would want to talk to me, or if I was making a mistake. Maybe it was better if I didn’t approach him. Not speaking to him at all would be better than being rejected.
I got irritated with myself. I usually knew just what I wanted, and did what I had to do to get it. This was the same. All I had to do was make a decision and stick to it.
Easier said than done in this case. Walking up to the man that had shown me the door was harder than it sounded, and I hadn’t been as confident back then as I was now. I thought maybe I was the problem, and you never forget your first love and how they made you feel.
I was nearly next to him when he turned around and saw me. Too late. Even if I wanted to run away, I couldn’t do it now.
Kyle looked surprised, a smile crossing his face. At least that wasn’t a bad sign.
“Maya,” he said.
“Hi,” I offered.
“What a surprise, seeing you here. What are you doing at the training center?”
He was drop-dead gorgeous. My pussy tightened just looking at him, and my heart raced at the fact that he was once again standing right in front of me. His light brown hair was shorter than he’d had it in college and his eyes were cornflower blue, the way they used to get when he talked about things he was passionate about. His shoulders were broader than I remember, his muscles compact.
“I’m on the Sharks Cheerleading Squad,” I said, pointing to the girls stretching on the grass. “We trained here today.”
“Oh, wow,” he said. “That’s impressive.”
I smiled, fighting a blush. I wore spandex training shorts and a tank top. I was minimally dressed and Kyle’s eyes slid down my body and back up again. I was suddenly self-conscious.
“Have you been with the squad for long? I don’t remember seeing you on TV.”
I shook my head. “I only just started with them. It’s a great opportunity.”
“For sure,” Kyle said.
He turned his gaze to the football training in front of us and we stood together, watching the men collide for a while. It was pure poetry, thick flesh slamming, grunts and groans and the whistle, lacing it all. The game was gritty and dirty and I loved it. It wasn’t about the men, it was about the art of it.
“How about you?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m watching Jacob train,” Kyle said, and pointed into the writhing bodies that fought for the ball. “You remember him, right?”
“How could I forget?” I asked. Jacob and Kyle had been like brothers at college. “I’d heard when he transferred to the Sharks last season. Bit of a rocky start, if I remember.”
“Very,” Kyle said.
He seemed bitter about it. He watched the team and as I watched him, he didn’t look like he enjoyed it.
“Do you remember when we went out to Sparky’s place on the beach with the team?” I asked. “It was after that game against NYU and you got tackled so hard you were concussed, your speech all jumbled up the more you drank.”
Kyle laughed, “I was such an idiot, then, drinking with a concussion. God, I could have killed myself. “
I chuckled. “Yeah, you were kind of reckless back then. Are you calmer, now?”
“I don’t know. I guess that’s relative.”
“To what?” I asked.
He looked at me with a naughty smile, a smile I knew too well. It made my panties instantly wet— then and now. “To who’s asking.”
I laughed. “Right. That sounds like the Kyle I remember.”
Kyle’s face fell and he seemed suddenly thoughtful. “Really? Does it? It seems like a long time ago, a different life.”
“Well, it’s been a couple of years. But not much has changed, I see. Cheerleading for me and football for you.”
“Oh, I don’t play,” Kyle said.
His tone was weary, bitter. I thought it better not to ask details about why that was so.
“I have to get going,” I said. “I’m covered in sweat. I have to get home and get cleaned up. It was great seeing you again, Kyle.”
He nodded, still looking at the team. I turned and headed toward the training center where we were using the locker rooms.
“Maya,” Kyle called after me. I stopped and turned around. “I know it might seem a little, well, awkward or something, but can I take your number? Will you let me call you sometime?”
I smiled and nodded. I had been arguing with myself the whole time we’d been talking. I’d wanted him to ask me and hoped to see him again. But then I’d also been scolding myself for wanting to give him another chance.
I hadn’t thought it was what he’d wanted, but there it was. He pulled out his phone and I walked closer, reciting my digits to him as he punched them into the phone.
“You’ve changed your number,” he said.
“Yeah, sometimes it’s a necessity,” I replied, not willing to mention that it was my fifth number since college, or that I was doing it to run away from Tyler.
“Got it,” Kyle said. “I’ll pop you a text sometime.”
“Great. Have a good one,” I said, and walked away toward the locker room.
Warmth spread through my body. Kyle had been everything I’d ever wanted in a man. I had been shattered when he’d broken up with me by moving on.
I’d been telling myself I was over him, but now that I saw him again, I realized how much I still felt for him and realized why I wasn’t that interested in dating. It was dangerous to think he still cared for me in the same way, but he’d asked for my number. He wanted to talk to me again, maybe see me again. That was something.
I walked into the locker room where the girls were pulling tracksuit pants over their sweaty clothes and pushing their feet into flip-flops. I did the same, running a brush through my hair and cracking open another ice cold bottle of water.
“What was that all about?” Samantha asked me. She was one of the few on the team who had pulled me in from the start.
“An old college friend,” I said. “I hadn’t seen him in a while.”
“He’s hot,” she said.
I nodded. “Very.”
My phone beeped. I picked it up, unlocking the screen.
Dinner? Tomorrow night? Kyle
I couldn’t help but grin.
“And that face?” Samantha asked, when she saw me smiling at my phone.
“He just asked me out to dinner,” I said.
Samantha smiled. “Looks like more than just a college friend, then,” she said, and waggled her eyebrows at me. I laughed and typed a reply to Kyle.
Love to. Let me know where and what time.
A thrill ran through me when I hit send. I had been on a few dates over the past couple of years since Kyle, but I’d never felt this way about any of them. I was excited to see him. Even if we were only going to be friends.
A small part of me hoped that that wasn’t the case.
I’ve got a second chance with my first love.
I'll do whatever it takes not to blow it.
But ours is no traditional romance.
Because she says if I like it, I should put a fake ring on it.
Back when Maya and I were together, I was young and selfish.
I had to move away from her, to play football.
But I’ve never been able to forget her feisty personality or gorgeous curves.
So I can't believe it when I run into her again, and see her sultry eyes staring back at me.
I'm determined to win her back, and this time I'll take care of her.
Fulfill her every need and desire- including the one where I finally take her virginity.
Then I find out that what she needs is a bit unconventional.
She’s got a creepy stalker who won’t take no for an answer.
So she told him she’s engaged, and she needs me to play along.
I’m not going to let either one of us walk away from each other again.
Whatever she wants, I’ll f*cking give her.
I tell her that I’ll be happy to fulfill the role of her fake fiancé.
What I don’t tell her is that I plan to make it real.
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If you enjoyed reading Lucky Charm and are interested in reading more fake fiancé romance check out the following excerpt of
I Pretend Do: A Billionaire Fake Fiancé Romance
Copyright © 2018 by Eva Luxe; All Rights Reserved.
Published by Juliana Conners’ .
Chapter 1 – Amelia
“Oh, fuck yeah, babe.” Jason’s murmured words send his warm breath across the skin of my neck, and my body responds, hips thrusting harder, pulling him deeper inside me. The bed frame rattles beneath us as I dig my fingernails into the skin of his chest, my body hurtling towards climax with each thrust -
And then Jason is looking me in the eyes, saying, “I have a surprise for you, babe.” The pleasure stops as the door to our bedroom opens and I hear a familiar voice. “Hey, Amelia. Watch this.”
Suddenly I’m standing against the wall, my place atop Jason taken by a different woman - Violet. Her dark hair cascades down her naked back as she turns her head effortlessly to smile at me, and I see the ecstasy in her eyes ripple down through all her muscles as she cums on Jason’s cock -
“God damn it!” For the third night this week, that’s when I open my eyes. I’m in my bed, alone, which has become my new normal.
I can’t seem to sleep a night without having some kind of awful sex dream about Jason. My hands stiffen, realizing that my own juices are dry on my fingers. Great. I guess I was touching myself while I was sleeping again.
Apparently I can’t even touch myself without thinking of Jason the Jagoff and Violet the…bitch. I really need to come up with a more alliterative title for her at some point. Oh well.
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that they’re still in my head - I mean, she’s nothing if not eternally selfish and grabby. He dumped me on a Tuesday and was parading around with her on his arm by Friday. Jason always had to have the shiniest tool in the shed. I should have realized it when he got with me after dumping his ex only a week prior. At least he had been single when I met him, though, which is more than Violet can say.
Now they’re off with each other, and somehow I’m still the one getting fucked without any of the fun parts. Sure, she’s gorgeous, but her personality is ugly. She takes great pride in bragging about breaking up our relationship. Whoever can do that is no one with any character and I know it, even if Jason’s doesn’t know it— or care.
I tell myself that what goes around comes around and that he’ll get his in the end. Still, it doesn’t do much to soothe my still aching heart. I’m all for karma coming back to get people, but why the hell does it have to take so long?
I roll over and open my bedside table drawer. Even in the near total darkness, the diamond ring inside still somehow glints at me. Every morning for almost four months, I’ve looked at it and resolved that today is the day I’m going to sell it. But every night, there it still is. Every glint off its surface is like the mocking laughter of the popular middle school girls who pushed me in the mud during recess in the fourth grade.
I used to be under the mistaken impression that life had gotten better since then. I’d grown up, gotten a job and a fiancé and things were going well. Until they weren’t. Now I’m left wondering if I’m destined to repeat my depressing school days forever.
I slam the drawer and flop back down into bed. I think about trying to touch myself again, consciously this time, but I have a bad feeling I won’t be able to stop thinking about Jason no matter which handsome actor’s face I try to conjure up. The last thing I want to do is think about him while pleasuring myself during my waking hours, even if I can’t seem to help doing it while dreaming.
I nearly smother myself with my pillow and will myself to fall back asleep instead. Everything will be better in the morning, I think, even though I know that’s a lie.